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"Of course, I know that," she said. "But what more is there to say? The police have been here three times. We were closed for several days and have only just opened back up to the public, and here you are. Here with new questions and new problems, no doubt."
"Have we annoyed you?" Will asked, standing up from the table.
The woman sighed. "I'm trying to run a business here. The place has been dead, if you excuse the pun, since Greta was found out back." She pointed over her shoulders.
"And this has caused you problems?" Will continued.
"Look," she said, "it's terrible what happened to Greta, but she only worked here for five weeks. I barely knew the girl. I don't know what else I can tell you about her, and each time the law shows up, it makes my regulars think somehow this place was complicit in her death. Geez, we already have a bunch of gossip and ghost stories about what happened. I don't want to add to them. I just want us to get back to normal life."
"Ghost stories?" Charlie asked.
"Yes," Dolores answered. "You know how superstitious people can be. There's talk of an apparition out in the lane where she was found dead, and people are frightened to eat here."
"I wouldn't think the locals would take the story seriously," Sheriff Carter said, sounding defensive of the community.
"Even one of my own waitresses, Frances, she says she's seen the damn thing walking about out there. And she hasn't been back to work since!"
Valerie was growing frustrated. She wasn't interested in tall tales; she was only interested in what could be gleaned from the people and environment. Information that would lead to an arrest.
Her phone buzzed. Valerie looked down at it. She sighed.
"Heinlein?" Will asked.
"Yes," she said. "But he can wait." She didn't want to speak with him until she had something more concrete. Then she'd at least have a chance to argue her case.
Valerie noticed another waitress standing at the corner of the diner. She looked nervous. Valerie sensed she knew something.
Looking up, Valerie's gaze fell on the corner of the diner. There, next to an empty booth, stood a woman. She was dressed as a waitress, but she was not talking to anyone or attempting to take any orders. Something about her struck Valerie as odd.
The woman shifted her weight from foot to foot and kept her gaze low. She was cleaning a table, but Valerie could see it didn't need to be cleaned. It seemed as if the woman was trying very hard not to be seen or noticed.
"Who is that waitress?" Valerie asked.
"Jenny?" said Dolores. "Now, don't go bothering her. She's as jumpy as hell, and I can't afford to lose another member of staff!"
But Valerie didn't answer the manager. She stood up and walked past her towards the waitress.
"Jenny?" Valerie asked.
The woman saw Valerie coming, swallowed hard, and nodded her head slowly. "Yes," she said quietly. "That's me." Her voice was strained and anxious.
"It's okay," Valerie said soothingly. "We're not here to hurt you." She paused for a moment, taking in Jenny's appearance more closely. She had dark circles under her eyes and looked like she'd been crying recently. It seemed clear that something was troubling her deeply, but Valerie wasn't sure what it could be. She tried another tactic, "Dolores said some of the staff have been seeing a ghost around here lately?"
Jenny's eyes widened briefly before she quickly looked away again, dropping her gaze back towards the floor with a nod of confirmation of some kind behind it. She took a deep breath before continuing, "Yes ... I have," she whispered finally, still avoiding eye contact, as if afraid of what she might see there if Valerie looked too long or hard enough.
Valerie glanced towards Will and the others at the booth before turning back towards Jenny with an understanding expression. "It can be scary," she said softly, "when someone you know is killed. It can make you see all manner of things."
"No!" she said in a low whisper. "I have seen things out in the lane. Things go missing. They move around. Just where they found poor Greta ..."
Jenny began to sob.
Valerie sat down next to Jenny, her heart aching with sympathy. She put an arm around the waitress and let her cry. When she finally managed to compose herself, Jenny looked up at Valerie with a pale face and frightened eyes.
"How well did you know Greta?"
"I barely knew her," she said, voice trembling. "Greta kept to herself. I know we worked together but we didn't ever really talk. She was only here a few weeks."
Valerie nodded in understanding and considered Jenny's words carefully. She seemed sincere. "Do you know anything about Greta's faith?" Valerie asked gently.
